


She Woke Up

by TharryTheSunshine



Series: AU - Heather Chandler Survived [1]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: ...kind of, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chansaw, Coma, F/F, Heather Chandler lives, One Shot, Post-Canon, that's it lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11679828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TharryTheSunshine/pseuds/TharryTheSunshine
Summary: Veronica accidentally gave drain cleaner to Heather Chandler drink, and then the red girl fell, dead. Or almost. A Heather is not so easy to kill. But Chandler went into a coma, and now that she's awake, Veronica must - again - go apologize to the demon queen of high school, even if it means that Monday 8am she will be deleted.





	She Woke Up

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah... hi.  
> This was edited by the wonderful The Dreamer 240, thank u dude ; -;

 Her feet stopped, and they would not dare to continue the way. She couldn't move, she was as still as a cold, lifeless statue. Veronica stood in the doorway of the hospital room, nervously clasping her hands around the roses, the beads of icy sweat running down her forehead.

  She did not feel ready to do that. She looked again at the large number seventeen above the door, looked at the blue roses bouquet in her hands, looked at her own shoes, and then bit her lower lip; She was fearful. Heather Chandler would crucify her and then send her to jail, where she would rot until her last days. She could already see herself in the future - eating bad food and wasting her high IQ on escape attempts.

  She was screwed.

   _Of course, for all the assassination attempts in the world that she could participate -_ _unconsciously, she’s not a killer… kind of -, she would collaborate to the death of Heather Chandler, the demon queen of high school. How very._

  Heather had woken up a month and a few days after Jason Dean's death - and it was about a week ago. She had already been visited by her grandmother, the other Heathers, and even Ms. Fleming - who came with a strange conversation about "her inner self" and “to shine her light” - but none of her parents, who just sent ugly flowers and a "love you, get well soon" card. They were far too busy to actually visit. And then Veronica decided it was her turn to visit Heather, even if on one hand, she'd been the one to put Heather in that situation.

  Only when a nurse came to ask if she was all right that Veronica decided to move. She giggled and said she was okay, but the truth is that the next person to be hospitalized would be her, who was about to have an aneurysm. She opened the door after some seconds - which was probably closed at Heather's request -, and then there was the queen bee, behind the book "The Bell Jar" and with a needle strung uncomfortably on the back of her hand. Veronica was not surprised to find red balloons, flowers, cards and even plushies decorating the room - Heather was very feared, but also, very popular.

  Heather lowered the book, as if she had already expected Veronica there. She had raised her eyebrows and her gray eyes were tight - even without makeup, Veronica couldn't help but notice she was still beautiful.

   _Like an angel carved by demons._

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and when Veronica realized that it was not Heather who would start talking, the blue girl sighed;

  “Hi, Heather.”

  "Veronica." was all she said, because the doctors recommended that she talk less while recovering. But being who she is, she wouldn't do it. "And without Jesse James? Quelle surprise."

  Veronica trembled. She still wasn't comfortable talking about J.D., even though the Heathers, Martha and Betty had tried to make it better. She was afraid, and didn't sleep through the entire night, thinking that J.D. would simply appear in her bedroom to kill her. It was long dawn that she passed in silence, just staring at the window, waiting for him to finish his job. This explains the dark circles under her eyes, just above a small wound that would soon disappear, but that would leave a scar.

  “I... I came to apologize.”

  If she could - and if it did didn't hurt -, Heather would laugh. But as she could not, she just curled her lips in a sarcastic smile.

  “Well, I think I already heard that.” She arched an eyebrow. “Does that mean you brought your boy toy? God, I hope you didn't let him bring me another hangover cure, you know. Is he hidden? Or preparing another deadly drink? Or does he-”

  “He died!”

  Veronica didn't shout at Heather, but at herself, as she had been doing every day to herself over the past month. She tried to get it into her head so she could have a normal life - even after all she did, but her subconscious was always there, afraid to see a shabby trench coat and a cherry slushie.

  “He died…” Veronica repeated, clenching her hands into fists, her fingers laced around the blue roses.

  Heather's smile disappeared and she made an almost irritated face, as if she had touched on a subject she didn't want to talk about. “For a few seconds, me too.”

  The silence was uncomfortable, and Veronica wondered why she hadn't stayed home that morning. Heather folded her arms, looking down at the flowers in Veronica's right hand. She kind of smiled, narrowing her eyes.

  "Blue roses? At least for _something_ you have good taste.” Veronica had even forgotten the flowers! She approached Heather and handed her the roses, which were held by the red girl. Heather would not say it aloud, but she loved Veronica's choice.

  Ronnie's face twitched, as if she was anxious, expecting the worst. She laced her hands together, uneasily.

  “Is that your ugly face because you're afraid that I'll report it? I know you, Ronnie. I know your biggest audacity would be to spit on that mug, jerk. And besides that shit, I'm bigger than John Lennon now. That thing you wrote about "no one thinks a pretty girl has feelings" made everyone love me. So, I thank you for almost killing me.”

  "Wait," Veronica frowned. "Did you read the letter?"

  Heather rolled her eyes. Tediously, she picked up her book and then opened it on the last page, where there were three folded papers. She held them at her fingertips and lifted them up, so Veronica could see them.

  “Ms. Fleming brought me two, the Heathers one. Smart, cover everything as if it were a suicide attempt, but Jesus, you made me sound like Air Supply.” Ronnie felt a lump in her throat, her breathing heavy.

  Veronica felt like shit. She approached the hospitalized girl, sitting on the edge of the small bed. She squeezed the hem of her skirt, trying to keep her posture and not collapsing in front of the queen bee.

  “Heather, I’m so, so sorry.” She held Heather's hand. Even struggling against it, she could feel her eyes begin to burn and her vision blur; and when she least expected it, Veronica was crying like a little child. “I'm sorry for everything, I’m, I- Oh my god, I almost killed you! And Kurt and Ram were bad people, but they didn't kill themselves, I fucking did it! And… and... " The air wasn't there, the tears kept falling, and Veronica was a very troublesome and sad mess. She felt guilty, because it was really her fault. She could have stopped him, but she didn't. She was as sick as he was.

  Heather rolled her gray eyes. She knew that J.D. had died before Veronica even said - Mac and Duke had gotten close enough to the girl, after all that incident - but she didn't want to miss the chance to make Veronica feel bad for what she did... But seeing her crying almost made Heather regret having asked about the little psychopath. Then, she raised her hand and cupped Veronica's face, making her look into Chandler’s very grey eyes.

  Tears still trickled down Veronica's cheeks, but she didn't understand what Heather was doing. She analyzed it as on that first day of September, which now seemed a distant dream, a distorted and bizarre utopia without deaths and explosions.

  "Tsc, you're so beautiful." Heather murmured, bringing Veronica closer. "Stop crying, you stupid fuck. When I get discharged we're going to have a date, and it's good that you do not cry there.”

  Veronica ran her hands over her face, looking at Heather as if she had some mental illness. Her mouth was half open and her blue eyes wide, while Heather looked almost bored. She really meant it?

  “What? W-why?!” Veronica blurted out. Heather was ordering her - not asking - to go out and have a date with the demon queen herself - and she looked really serious about it.

  “Why not?” Chandler retorted. She kissed the corner of Veronica's lips, leaving the blue girl stunned. _What the fuck was going on?_ “Now, c'mon loser, get the hell out of here. You still almost killed me and you're dead to me until Thursday.”

  Veronica straightened and wiped her face with her palms. Still half silly, she nodded at Heather, who was now completely ignoring her - she even went back to reading her book - and then, left the room. At the same time that Chandler sniffed her pretty blue bouquet, Veronica laughed nervously in the hall, scaring some nurses;

  “Hah, what’s your damage, Heather?”


End file.
